


Burden

by allourheroes



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Dubious Consent, Fuck Or Die, M/M, Rape/Non-con Elements
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-13
Updated: 2013-12-13
Packaged: 2018-01-04 13:19:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,180
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1081479
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/allourheroes/pseuds/allourheroes
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>If the only other option is to watch Bilbo die, Thorin will accept his hatred.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Burden

**Author's Note:**

  * For [impalafortrenchcoats](https://archiveofourown.org/users/impalafortrenchcoats/gifts).



> For her birthday. The longest of the ficlets I wrote for her and the first time I'm actually posting for this pairing, or anything fuck-or-die for that matter. Since I did arranged marriage, I thought I'd do another of her favorite tropes for her request of Thorin/Bilbo.

Thorin's hands travel the trembling hobbit's face. Perhaps he has waited too long and it is too late.

Bilbo has been cursed, that had been apparent almost immediately. Thorin had demanded they cure him without hesitation until Gandalf had taken him aside and described to him the nature of this particular malady. Thorin had gone pale while Fili and Kili--spying for Bilbo's sake, they claimed--giggled.

Now, he wishes he had their confidence, at least in this.

Bilbo will die if he does not break this curse. He can wait no longer. If he needed only to slay some great beast or seek out some mystical chalice, Thorin could've done this with all the determination in the world. This...this does not feel right. It is perhaps a double-edged sword to choose himself for this task, but just as he would rather be the one to bear the burden of guilt, he also could not bear the thought of one of the others putting their hands on the hobbit.

It is his choice and he hopes the hobbit, once back to his right mind, will accept it.

He is unsure how much of the hobbit to expose, his mind frantically going through the ways in which this could happen. Gandalf had been rather specific, however, in what would surely work, despite Thorin's timid suggestions.

He will not--cannot--be bold when it means the defilement of his burglar. He has grown...overly fond of the smallest member of their company.

In the end, he decides that it is better to remove the entirety of Bilbo's clothing as well as his own. The more places he can touch, the less sickly Bilbo appears.

He uncaps the vial Gandalf had given him and gives it a tentative sniff. It is non-offensive and that, he supposes, is good enough. He coats his fingers in it, fearful of the harm he could do to Bilbo--who appears now to be even smaller, all fragile, shivering flesh exposed to the open air--and lets his hand trail down Bilbo's bare chest. It is so different from his own, he thinks, and the invasiveness of his actions, his thoughts, bears down on him. He cannot help himself, however, hoping that it will offer some sort of comfort if he treats this as a romantic offering rather than a vile cure to a vile curse.

He presses a thick finger into Bilbo and the hobbit gasps. He has not spoken in hours, the curse overtaking him in whimpers coupled with troubling, uncontrollable shaking. His body feels feverish and this in itself is somewhat tempting in the cold of the night. "It'll be alright," Thorin murmurs and hates himself a bit more. Bilbo's body is complying with him, opening to his stretch as he pushes another digit past the ring of muscle. He places a kiss to Bilbo's hip, to the base of his now rising cock.

"I do not wish to hurt you. Mahal, how I would have worshipped you had you given yourself to me. This..." He shakes his head and scissors his fingers as much as he can, the hobbit is nearly ready. "This will taint whatever we could have had. I know you will not forgive me for this, I only hope you will live to hate me."

He slicks himself and removes his fingers slowly. Bilbo writhes at the loss and he swallows. He presses in carefully. It is so much better--so much worse--than he could have imagined. He buries himself in deep and Bilbo arches towards him.

"More," Bilbo whines, and he knows it is the curse talking.

Thorin is the one trembling now, and he leans forward and wraps his arm around the hobbit's neck. He kisses him on the cheek but does not dare kiss his lips. He has not been given permission and what he is doing does not earn him such a mockery of affection. His own feelings are not enough to believe Bilbo feels--felt, he reminds himself, as it will all be over soon--the same. The fact that he is enjoying this is disgusting, but the body is so willing beneath his. Bilbo's hands clutch at his back, his blunt fingernails scrabbling as Thorin moves in him, his cock--trapped between them--rubs against Thorin's stomach.

"Yes," Bilbo cries, his body moving in time with Thorin's, pushing himself back as the dwarf pushes forward, causing him to slide even deeper. He is mumbling more words now, but Thorin is uncertain what the others are.

"I'm sorry," Thorin whispers into a pointed ear, his long hair dragging over Bilbo's shoulder as their bodies rock together.

He is shamefully close and he shuts his eyes tight as he works Bilbo's cock between their bodies. He wants the hobbit to enjoy this--he wants to pretend. He is coming, his seed spilling into the one person he could've imagined a future with and hating himself for ruining it.

Bilbo is following him over the edge, however, with a shout of his name.

Thorin's eyes open and he listens, holding the hobbit to him.

"Thorin, Thorin, Thorin..." Bilbo says, as if he cannot stop.

After a few moments, silence falls and they still.

Thorin pulls away, afraid to look, but he must.

Bilbo is flushed, but he does not look sad, does not have the proper expression on his face--his beautiful face, a treacherous part of the dwarf adds--of someone who has just been violated by a curse and by a friend, if Thorin could even have been considered as such.

"Thorin," the hobbit says again, looking straight into his eyes.

A stone feels as if it's settling at the pit of Thorin's stomach and he nods. "Hate me," he says. "Please. But do not leave this world. If you can never bear to look at me again, I understand, I just--"

"Thorin." Bilbo's voice breaks a little and he says it again, more firmly. He'll say it as many times as he needs to.

The dwarf is quiet, watching him, waiting for him.

"Thank you," Bilbo continues, "for saving my life."

Thorin nods, "You...you saved mine. You'd have done the same." He clears his throat, "If any of us--"

Bilbo kisses him and he cannot kiss back, can only freeze in shock at the motion. "Yes, but I'm glad it was you."

"You--you are?" Thorin asks, thick brows furrowing.

"I am," Bilbo assures.

Thorin lets out a breath he had been unaware he'd was holding and allows himself a semblance of a smile when Bilbo grins at him.

Thorin's conscience is not clear and it will never be, but the burden is less to bear when Bilbo comes to him again each night, kissing him and whispering of all the things he wishes for them. He speaks of lust and love and forever, and, perhaps, the guilt of saving his life is one Thorin could get used to.

After all, what is more guilt compared to a life without his hobbit?


End file.
